Love a kind of magic
by Hestia28
Summary: Who would've thought you'd meet your other half while on a mission to save the world from the ruler of the Dark Dimension. It certainly gets a little trickier when that someone is the niece of Dormammu. Not to mention a powerful sorceress in her own right. But Stephen Strange and Clea are willing to make it work. Somehow. CleaxStephen. Kind of OC?


**_A/N: Clea is based on Clea Strange, a character in the Marvel Comics. More specifically Doctor Strange comics. I just had this idea. And this is just a collection of one-shots, dealing with mini-plots and such while Clea and Stephen navigate life._**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

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"How many?"

Doctor Stephen Strange glanced up from where he had been reading yet another book. The woman stood there, arms folded, silvery white hair framing her soft features, settling around her shoulders in natural waves. Her eyes were distant, he noticed, frowning slightly as he spoke.

"Sorry?"

A sigh left her lips, her arms dropped and one of her hands came up to push her hair back before she spoke again.

"How many times did you die?"

A flicker of confusion before realization dawned. He pursed his lips, shifting his attention back to the elegant Sanskrit in front of him.

"I do not wish to speak of this Clea." Was his only response, prompting the woman to emit another sigh. A step forward and she was kneeling beside him where he had been sitting in the armchair for the last half hour. One hand moved to rest atop his knee, the other to press a soft palm against his cheek, willing him to look at her. Which he avoided by keeping his gaze on the book. Though he wasn't really reading. Not anymore.

"No, but it is not good to keep it all inside either." Her voice was slightly pleading as her thumb gently stroked along his jaw, skin grazing against his facial hair every now and then. Her blue eyes, a trait so unlike her heritage, were full of trust and hope. And considering the dimension she hailed from, it was rather ironic.

Still despite his heart and thoughts feeling heavy in his chest, Stephen kept quiet. And it was after ten minutes that Clea finally relented. Sighing in slight disappointment, which had him wincing given how he hated to disappoint her, she rose. His gaze finally found hers as she smiled at him, hand still resting against his jaw.

A sad smile.

Not of pity. For she would never have pity on him no.

No, the smile was because he had come to rely on himself for so long that he found it hard to rely on others.

It had taken her months to gain his trust. And given her roots, Clea did not blame him. But saving his life twice, one of them being from the hands of her uncle did leave an impression on a man.

Still she wished he would trust her just a little more.

With a brief run of her fingers along the silver in his hair Clea left the room.

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Astral projection was a favorite past time. And given she was not human, it didn't have any lasting effect on her physical body. Clea wandered through the hallways of the Sanctum. Most nights she would venture out into the great New York City and simply explore. Often she would come back at dawn. But before returning to her body she would stand atop the roof of the Sanctum and watch the sunrise.

That particular night, something compelled her to return an hour after her venture began. And as her astral-self passed by Stephen's room while floating towards her own, she picked up a restlessness from within. Clea frowned and reaching out to brush the tips of her fingers against the wooden door.

And quickly drew it back with a gasp.

The aura within, obviously Stephen's, was restless and experiencing some form of turmoil. A turmoil that made him feel emotions that would break a normal being mentally.

A ghost of a whisper and she was back in her body with a sharp gasp. Scrambling from her bed, and donning a floor length robe, she made quick, yet haphazard work of tying it at the front before racing towards Stephen's room down the hall.

Throwing the door open she was greeted with a sight that had her eyes widening in horror.

Every object in the room was either trembling as if being shaken by an earthquake, or flying about as phantom hands played with them. Chairs, books, tables, ornaments. Thank goodness nothing too precious or delicate. At least not as far as she could see. Her hair blew about her face softly as it caught the wind from the floating objects. But the one sight that caused yet another sharp cry to emit from her lips was the sight of Stephen.

His hands glowed with strands of his magic, fingers trembling as he tried to form some sort of spell. He was still fast asleep. He was muttering incoherent words, she could see his lips moving.

Dodging the objects as best as she could, Clea made her way to his bedside on deft feet.

"Stephen!" She called out the second she reached his side. His brow was furrowed, face etched with fear. "Stephen!" Her plea echoed once more her hands reaching out to still his as she brought them up in front of her to try and calm him down.

"Wake up!" A command, and a spell as she projected her more wakeful thoughts to him.

With a gasp his blue eyes shot open. Clea was taken aback by the fear and horror she saw within. As well as the tears. Behind her she heard the objects clatter to the ground. Felt his magic dissipate from his scarred hands. For the next few minutes she just sat there beside him, holding his hands as he tried to calm his breath. And collect his thoughts. Throughout this Clea stayed silent, allowing him as much time as he needed to recover. Her thumb would stroke across one of the scars on the back of his hand every now and then. But other then that she made no movement.

Finally, Stephen bowed his head atop their joined hands, resting his forehead against the soft skin of her hands.

"I lost count." The word was spoke so softly she could barely make out what he said. Leaning down she placed her forehead against the back of his head, inhaling the scent of his hair as she squeezed his hand, a silent indication for him to continue.

"I lost count. And I almost gave in. I almost gave in to Dorumammu." A trembling sigh, which broke her heart to hear.

But he continued. "But then I heard this voice. A voice that called out to me to stay strong. To not give in. It was barely there the first few times, and I thought it was my imagination." She felt him push against her forehead and pulled back, just as he did as well. The fear was gone from his eyes. As were the tears. He simply looked at her with a strength that made her admire him, and another emotion which made her half dark heart beat violently in her chest.

"It was you. You helped me that day." His admittance that he knew it had been her lending him strength made the half-faltine sigh and give a small shrug.

"Well I have issues with my uncle and had a desire to see him bested." His deep chuckle followed her words, and she found herself smiling as well. Grasping her hands in return he slowly brought them up to press his lips against the knuckles of her right hand.

"And you have helped me today." A blush stole across her cheeks and she bit her lower lip, blue eyes gazing at anything but him.

"I just woke you up. Maybe people would not be so happy about it." Stephen smirked that knowing smirk of his that had her debating one whether she should slap him or kiss him.

So she settled for neither.

He knew exactly what kind of effect he had on her. And if he was going to be smug about it, well two could play at that game. Besides, maybe it would distract him from whatever night terror he had just experienced.

Drawing herself up, her lips pulling into just as smug of a smirk as his, Clea spoke. "Then again, I may have had other things in mind." Here she leaned forward slightly, as if sharing a secret, as she whispered.

"After all, most nightly activities are only enjoyable when two are involved." She purred, eyes alight with mischief and playfulness. Her sudden shift in demeanor had Stephen blinking in surprise at her for a brief second.

Before he burst out laughing.

Clea, for her part, huffed in annoyance. "Or perhaps I came to the wrong partner." She said, moving to slip her fingers out from between his as she moved to get up. But was pulled back with a yank that had her loosing her balance and falling between Stephen's outstretched legs, her face inches from his chest. Her hands pressed against it to keep herself from falling into him completely. She tilted her head up to look at him, and reward him with a sarcastic quip.

But the second their eyes met, the words were forever lost in the ever changing landscape that was her memory.

Neither remembered who moved first. But their lips were touching. Eyes sliding close. Bodies moving much closer then they had been before.

The first few kisses were soft and slow, tentative at best, testing the waters. He cupped her face, while she smiled against his lips, feeling him smile in return. But as their bodies shifted, to Clea lying on top of Stephen, hands resting on his chest, while his played with her hair, the kisses turned heated. His teeth bit down on her lower lip, making her gasp, allowing him the chance to make the kiss deeper, prompting a deep moan from the woman as she lost herself to the sensation of his mouth and his hands.

"You do remember you have to meet with the Avengers tomorrow." Clea finally spoke, her mind in a complete jumble as his mouth moved from her lips to her face. His goatee left a rough sensation that she found she liked as she smiled softly under his ministrations.

"We need to work on your timing and bedroom talk." The man mumbled against her cheek, laying a final kiss against her soft skin before pulling back. Slowly he turned to his side, allowing her to drop down on her side as well. They lay there, panting softly, cheeks flushed and eyes saying the same thing.

More.

But not tonight. They both knew that. They would not take a step further. Complicating their relationship. A kiss was simple. Easily swept under the rug.

Though they both had a feeling not with the way the kiss felt.

"What're you up to tomorrow?" Stephen spoke after a minute or so, moving his arm to wind around the side of her slim waist. Clea, for her part, lifted her hand to start running her fingers gently through his hair at the side of his head.

"Teaching a few classes at the Kamar-Taj." She responded. "Wong finally allowed me to take on one of the advanced classes."

He hummed in response, already drifting off. And once his breathing evened out and she could feel his body relax into the bed, Clea allowed herself a soft kiss to his forehead and lips.

"Sleep well Stephen." She whispered the words filled with utter adoration, trust and love. His handsome face was the last vision she saw before she drifted off as well.

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_**A/N: If you have any requests or ideas that you think could work or would like to see in writing please mention them in the reviews. :) I would be more then happy to look through them and try to write something up! Hope you enjoyed! - Hestia28**_


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